Playing with Fire

“Are you fightin’ him or not?” I bit out, not half-entertained by the visual. I had a feeling that if Kade Appleton were given another chance at fighting West, he’d use it to kill him.

I felt his muscles going rigid under my fingertips. He was angry. Tough luck. I wasn’t going to let him risk his life to cut a paycheck. It was our first real argument as a couple. Even though it made me nauseated, I stood my ground. Maybe that was why West refused to fall in love. Because when you loved someone, and they hurt you, it felt like your soul was shredded to tiny ribbons.

“I’ll tell Max the fight’s off,” he clipped, just as he parked in front of a red-bricked Georgian building with white columns, hoisting one leg over Christina. “Now get off my case, woman.”

We headed to the door, shouldering past clusters of partygoers while I tried to recall what had made me think it was a good idea to come here. My eyes roamed the people around us. The more I drank them in, the colder my blood ran.

West had left out one little detail about the party—it was anything but clothes themed.

Girls were strewn on the front yard’s lawn, sheets of bubble wrap swathed around them like strapless mini dresses, secured by fashionable belts. They all waved and blew kisses to West as we passed them, shooting me inquisitive looks. A herd of guys who’d taped fluffy animals to their genitals manned the front doors. They fist-bumped West when we got to the entrance.

“Yo, St. Claire. Wassup, wassup, wassup.”

“Move,” he grumbled, snatching my hand quickly, like I was a parcel he needed to dispose of. One of the guys held up a hand.

“Sorry, man. You know the drill—no rules, no party.” One of them pointed at a sign on the door.

Get naked or get goin’

A tall blond guy scanned me head-to-toe, crunching an empty beer can in his fist.

“That’s a nice piece of ass you got there, St. Claire. Need help undressin’, baby girl?”

West flashed him a look that sobered him up instantly.

“I will smoke your ass and use the rest of you as munchies if you so much as look her way again,” West drawled, icy venom leaking from his words. His grip tightened on my hand, almost punishingly, like he hated to be put in this position. “Now move. The. Fuck. Away.”

“Whoa. Sorry. Didn’t know she was your actual girl.” The blond guy blew a raspberry. They stepped aside, and we ambled in, fully dressed.

A bunch of dude-bros slid on top of a king-sized mattress down the wide stairs to the landing, using it as a sleigh, wearing cardboard boxes as diapers.

West tugged at my hand as we moved through the rooms, stopping at the kitchen for booze. He handed me bottled beer and popped another one open for himself. I took a sip and leaned against the kitchen island, looking around me.

“Having fun yet?”

“Immensely,” I bit back with as much sarcasm. From the corner of the room, we spotted Max. A cheerleader-type was draped under his arm. “Sixteen Years” by Vandoliers blasted through the speakers, and I wondered who was in charge of the playlist and if I could marry them.

The girl next to Max jerked his arm and pointed at West, obviously begging for an introduction.

“Gimme a sec.” West squeezed my shoulder and walked over to them, leaving me behind. I took a pull from my beer, watching the three of them, feeling something heavy pressing against my chest.

He was going to bow out of the fight for me.

It made me feel important, and beautiful, and not at all casual.

When West got to Max, the freshman jumped up and down, asking my boyfriend for a selfie. He stared at her like she was a nuisance, but agreed, sending her away as soon as she was done. He and Max huddled in the corner of the room, speaking with their heads down.

“Howdy, Grace. Cute outfit. I guess for you, being dressed in anything short of a windbreaker is naked.” Tess sashayed over to me, clinking her beer with mine. She was wearing an elaborate dress made out of real roses dipped in black, which left little room for imagination or modesty. By her hooded eyes and the sway of her body, I could tell she was drunk.

“Hi, Tess. How’s it goin’? How’s the play comin’ along?”

I was present at every single rehearsal, so I knew it’d been going pretty horribly. She and Lauren were bickering nonstop. Tess was clearly still wounded by the loss of her favored role. As for Lauren, I had to agree she wasn’t the best option for Blanche; then again, I really didn’t think anyone in my class measured up to Vivien Leigh.

“It’s goin’ real well,” she slurred, dragging her words heavily. “Hopefully there’ll be scouts coming in for the premiere. Otherwise, I wasted a perfectly good time of my life for nothin’.”

I smiled, ignoring the slash of jealousy ripping through my chest. “I’m sure there will be many scouts there.”

She leaned against the island. We both looked on at West and Max. She let out a loud, un-Tess-like hiccup.

“So nice you started hanging out with Westie. Who knew working together would earn you a friendship, aye?”

I didn’t correct her assumption that we were just friends. I knew she liked him and rubbing it in wasn’t my style. Besides, she was clearly skunk-drunk.

I liked Tess, despite her shortcomings. She reminded me of the old me. Sweet to everyone, no matter how they ranked in popularity. She was also part of the Friendly Visiting Program, where students had weekly visits with elders in the community. I knew, because Grams had told me Tess had been visiting her friend, Doris, since her freshman year at the university.

“He’s great.”

“He really is. I just think it’s so unkind that people are making up all these rumors about y’all being a couple. I swear, college folk just live for the drama. Men and women can be just friends. We’re not animals, you know!” Tess let out another hiccup, putting her beer to her mouth.

I knew there was bait to be taken here. West was arguing hotly with Max in the corner of the room.

Tess didn’t wait for me to contribute to the one-sided conversation. She took my silence as an invitation to continue. “When I heard you guys were an item, I was like, no way. You know I’ve always rooted for you, Grace. There’s just something about you that really resonates with me. You live with your nana, right?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded briskly. “My grandparents raised me, too. I still visit them every chance I get. They’re down in Galveston. Anyhoo, I told people they should mind their own business. That you and Westie are just there for each other. I mean, you’re too smart not to know that if he takes you to his bed, it’s just because he feels some sort of way about your …” She shot me a sidelong glance, flinching. “Life story.”